


Understanding the Heart

by Orcusnox (Cat9894)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat9894/pseuds/Orcusnox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Pendragon is a businessman.</p><p>Merlin has his magic locked away, leaving him with only the ability to sense the desires and general ridiculous nature of the heart by touching someone's skin. When he gets free, everything else turns to shit.</p><p>Valiant is an asshole.</p><p>On hiatus while I finish The Boys Wear Red...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Merlin fanfiction, I hope you enjoy. Done entirely on my own, so if you see any mistakes give me a yell. Or, you know. Comment.

    Arthur took a deep breath before stepping from his car and adjusting his tie. Leon climbed out after him, sharp eyes never still. He nodded once to Arthur before leading the way into an abandoned warehouse that looked, for all intents and purposes, completely empty.

    It was an unusual place for a meeting, let alone a _business_ meeting. Arthur was well aware of this, just as he was aware that it was likely a trap designed by the person with whom the meeting had been organised with. He heaved a sigh, and Leon lifted an eyebrow at him, which he ignored. His father, Uther Pendragon, was a world-renowned businessman, and with Arthur being the sole heir, it was no surprise to Arthur that he was the object of many rivals' greed.

    “Are you ready, sir?” Leon asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Leon wasn’t stupid – he knew this was a trap as well.

    “Of course,” Arthur replied, his voice parroting the arrogance that everyone seemed to expect of him. It had come to the point where he expected it of himself. Leon nodded once and pushed the door open.

    “Arthur Pendragon!” a voice called jovially from inside the darkened warehouse. As he stepped inside, the low lighting revealed a small group of men. Valiant stood at the front, his face twisted in a smirk that Arthur didn’t like one bit. An older man stood to one side, and several others huddled behind, but with the dim lighting Arthur couldn't make out who they were.

    He smiled anyway, charming when he wanted to be. “Valiant, it’s good to see you.” Now that was a downright lie, because Arthur hated the man, hated that he always tried to make everything into a goddamn pissing contest. The two of them had been fighting ever since school, when Valiant had decided that Arthur would make the perfect target for a session of bullying. Needless to say, it hadn't ended the way Valiant had planned.

    Valiant gave him a practised smile. “I heard you were in town, so I thought I’d make it worth your while.” He beckoned, and the older man at his side – Delvin – tugged on a chain, dragging something into the light.

    For a moment all Arthur could comprehend was pale, pale skin, dark hair and wide, impossibly blue eyes. He registered that there was a person attached to the chain in Delvin’s hands, dressed only in a pair of black jeans, and felt a spark of fury. They were all well past using slaves, and he wasn’t the least bit interested in playing with an admittedly attractive man.

    “He’s not much to look at,” Arthur disagreed silently, “but he comes in handy. He has, shall we say, a _magic_ touch?”

    “You arranged a meeting to show me a whore?” Arthur asked bluntly. The chained young man glared at him silently, those eyes looking like they were trying to stab him. “That’s low, Valiant.”

    “You mistake me,” Valiant replied smoothly, but Arthur could see a muscle twitching in his jaw, a sure sign that whatever scenario he'd had in his head was not happening in reality. “I would never have called you out here for something so… Simple.” Valiant gestured again, and this time the young man moved, creeping forward on four legs like a frightened puppy. “Show him,” he commanded, his greedy eyes roving over the chained man with a hunger that turned the spark of fury into a small fire in Arthur's chest.

    The young man drew himself up, and Arthur was startled to realise that the stranger was actually taller than him. Leon stepped closer, his hand going to his gun, but Arthur held up a hand. “What’s your name?” he asked curiously, because there was something about the man that made his apprehension melt away.

    The stranger looked taken aback, as though he hadn’t been asked that in a long time. “Merlin,” he answered, his voice hoarse and low but it did things to Arthur. “My name is Merlin.”

    “What are you going to do?” Arthur asked, keeping his voice low.

    Merlin gave him a searching look. “Look into your heart,” he answered finally.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

    Merlin knew that something was going on. He wasn’t exactly stupid, no matter what they thought of him. They’d dragged him from his cage earlier that evening, and had proceeded to subject him to the roughest and most unsatisfying bath Merlin had ever had. He’d snarled as they’d yanked and prodded, but they paid him no heed. With the collar, he was worse than useless.

    Delvin came, and Merlin let him attach a chain to his collar. Because really, when it boiled down to it, there was _nothing_ he could do. They gave him jeans – a first, because they were generally more than happy to leave him lying naked in his cage. They combed his hair, rubbed potions into his skin to make him look healthier.

    And then _he_ came – Valiant, the man who had put the collar on him in the first place. Merlin had to grit his teeth against the sudden violence that danced beneath his skin, just out of reach.

    “My dear boy,” Valiant drawled, and it took more self-control than Merlin had ever thought he had to not snap and punch the asshole right in his smug little face, “we have a special guest this evening. You’re going to use your _magic_ to tell me what he wants most.”

    Of all the magic the collar could have been ineffective against, it had to be the most useless. Skin on skin contact let Merlin glimpse into the hearts of anyone. He saw everything – love, hatred, want, greed, lust and so much more. The magic left to him was the only reason Valiant hadn’t forced him into _serving_ him. He didn’t want his _pet_ hurt or tired.

    There must have been something in Merlin’s eyes that gave him away – and let’s face it, he hadn’t ever been very subtle about his hatred for Valiant – because Valiant grabbed him by the chin with a gloved hand and forced Merlin to look him in the eyes.

    “You’re going to tell me,” he hissed, fingers digging into his skin cruelly, “because otherwise mother dearest may just have some _unpleasant_ visitors. Do we understand each other, my dear boy?”

    Merlin wanted to spit at him, wanted to make the man hurt more dearly than he had ever wanted to hurt someone, because _he was threatening his mother_ , and that should not be able to stand. Instead, he gave the man a brief, curt nod, because with his magic bound he _couldn’t do anything_. And that was killing him.

    “Good,” Valiant said, releasing Merlin’s face. “This time, I have the upper hand.”

    Merlin hadn’t really thought about anything other than watching Valiant’s face twist in terror in his mind. He could feel his magic roiling beneath his skin, pressing against the collar and searching for a weakness. The absence of his magic was something he had still not gotten used to. It was as though he'd been robbed of the ability to smell or taste. Nonessential though they were, Merlin was used to having them. He supposed he could live without his magic, but he didn't _want_ to. 

    He’d been distracted by his thoughts with the arrival of two men.

    The first man would have looked friendly in any other situation. He was tall, well-built and seemed perfectly at ease with the situation. Merlin would have thought he was just someone who had wandered into something he knew nothing about if it hadn’t been for three things; the gun in his jacket, his sharp eyes that never really stayed still, and the way he stood, alert but tense. Like a predator ready to strike.

    The next man was tall and ridiculously good-looking. He was dressed as though he was attending a business meeting, but for all Merlin knew he was in the habit of meeting people in abandoned warehouses with only one man for protection. His good opinion of this second man – based entirely on looks, where he to be honest with himself – was shattered the moment he called Merlin a whore. Delvin had tugged him forward like he was some dog, and Merlin felt fury race under his skin in the form of magic.

    Now, he was standing face to face with the handsome prat, barely able to keep his jaw from dropping as he tried to come up with an appropriate response to the most unexpected question he had ever encountered. The blond man, Arthur Pendragon, wanted to know his _name_.

    There were several possible responses. _None of your business_ was by far his personal favourite, followed by _eat shit you pretentious git_. However, what ended up coming out of his mouth was a very polite and completely inexplicable, “Merlin. My name is Merlin.”

    Because really, that was what he wanted to say. He wanted to reveal his name and his entire history to Arthur Pendragon. Merlin wasn’t stupid – he’d say it as many times as it took people to realise. He knew who Arthur Pendragon was, knew what his father did behind the front of a businessman.

    And the Arthur had asked what he was going to do, and another truth leapt from his mouth without him really pausing to consider it. The look on Arthur’s face had almost made him laugh, because it was the same face his best friend Will had worn when he found out about Merlin’s magic. Only the thought of Will almost shredded his heart.

    “It won’t hurt,” he assured Arthur, glancing uneasily at the bodyguard. “I don’t have the power to hurt anybody with this on.” He tapped the collar, mentally replacing his ‘anybody’ with ‘Valiant and his gang of assholes’. “I just need to touch your skin.”

    Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin immediately wished he could take back the words. But they were there, they were out, and even if he had his magic Merlin doubted he’d be able to make them disappear. “My skin?” was all he said though, offering Merlin a large hand.

    Merlin closed his eyes and swallowed. “It works much better closer to the heart,” he admitted, not opening his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets a brief look into Arthur's heart.
> 
> Valiant is still an ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a ridiculously short chapter because it just felt right to stop where I did. Enjoy.

    Was he _joking_?

    Arthur gaped at Merlin, but the man refused to open his eyes. And Arthur couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing, because he wanted to look at those eyes, but at the same time he realised that he would be at a severe disadvantage if Merlin _did_ open his eyes. His own eyes drifted to the collar around the man’s neck, and he was astounded with the intricate design that coiled around the pale throat. The craftsmanship necessary to create something so beautiful deserved praise, but Arthur was further distracted by the curve of Merlin's throat. He had a sudden desire to bite, to leave a bruise on the unmarked skin.

    He cleared his throat, shooing his errant thoughts. “Closer to the heart?” he finally repeated, and watched Merlin flinch. “You mean you want to touch my chest?”

    Merlin’s eyes snapped open at that, a mix of anger and helplessness swirling within their depths. “I don’t _want_ to,” he hissed. “I don’t have a choice.”

    Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Ah,” he said, because that really did explain everything. Merlin didn't look the type to just sit back and let people walk all over him. The way he'd glared when Arthur had mistakenly called him a whore would have made a lesser man weep.

    “What’s the hold up, pet?” Valiant asked, startling Arthur out of his thoughts. He’d actually managed to forget where he was, what he was doing and the potential danger he was currently in. Leon gave him an unreadable look when Arthur caught his eye. Nothing so far, then. He glanced back at Merlin and saw the man’s face twisted in fury, the collar glowing faintly against his skin. One of his eyes had flecks of gold shimmering in their depths - Arthur didn’t think the gold had been there before. In fact, he was sure of it. He felt a shudder run down his spine, but did his best to dismiss it in favour of paying attention to what Merlin was saying.

    “The faster we do this, the quicker you can leave,” Merlin said, his voice turning almost robotic. Arthur almost winced at the change. “It would be easier for me to read you if I place my hand over your heart. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can hold your hand.”

    Arthur hesitated. It wasn’t as if he believed Valiant, and he definitely didn’t trust him. But Merlin was a different story. There was just _something_ about him that Arthur felt he needed to understand. He felt almost sorry for the younger man, because whatever circumstances had led him here were obviously not happy ones. But he couldn’t very well show it, because he was Arthur Pendragon, and emotions were a weakness his father had never allowed. At least, not since his mother had died.

    “My hand,” he eventually decided, coming out of his thoughts and offering it again. This time, Merlin took it without a word. Arthur had time to admire his fingers – an artist’s fingers, in every sense of the phrase – before Merlin breathed in a gasp and tilted his head back. His hand tightened, the knuckles almost turning white, and Arthur heard Valiant muttering to his men.

    Merlin didn’t hold his hand for long – it was only a few minutes later that he abruptly let go, blinking his eyes almost sleepily. They were no longer _just_ blue – there was an overlay of gold, as though the colour had tried to take over his eyes but was being held back. After a moment, the gold faded.

    Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin, but the other man wasn’t paying attention. He looked… Hopeful, timidly so. It almost physically hurt to see him so reluctant to even hope. He stumbled a step closer to Arthur, close enough to whisper in his ear without arousing suspicion.

    “Hunith Ambrosius.” Arthur caught him, registering the name. It meant nothing to him. He blinked at Merlin, who gave him a sad smile. “Help her,” he hissed, before he was jerked away from Arthur.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

    Merlin took Arthur’s hand, expecting nothing different from the times Valiant forgot to wear gloves around him. A heart tainted by a greed, a lust for power, vengeful and twisted. A heart made cold and unfeeling by arrogance and pride, starved of love. Sometimes Valiant touched him on purpose, to remind Merlin exactly how little it would take for Valiant to destroy him.

    Merlin expected hatred to come snapping at his magic. He expected the cold prickle of arrogance, the heated flare of pride. He expected the thorny snare of greed, the deceptive velvet of lust. He expected hunger and anger.

    Arthur Pendragon’s heart… Was absolutely nothing he expected.

    Oh, there was pride, a certain arrogance that somehow wasn’t as abrasive as he would have expected. The mark of a great love seared his heart, in tandem with a loss. Merlin sensed a willingness to prove, striving ever higher. And he sensed the crushing weight of expectation, something that had so far been unable to taint the heart housed within the man before him.

    He felt the honesty running under Arthur’s skin, pulsing with the beat of his heart. Merlin almost whined – he wanted to get closer to that beautiful heart, because ever since the collar he’d been surrounded by hearts cold and cruel. Before the collar, his magic had been different; instinctive and free. Now it was the ache and the itch beneath his skin.

    He pulled away when he felt his magic shiver beneath his skin. That had never happened before. Sometimes there was a surge, but it was always frantic or furious. The shiver had almost been... Pleasurable. He opened his eyes, blinking as though he’d woken from a deep sleep. Up close, Arthur’s eyes were disarmingly blue, clear and beautiful. Arthur cocked an eyebrow in question, but Merlin didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he stared hard at the man in front of him, considering.

    The only reason he hadn’t made any attempt to ever escape was because of his mother. Hunith owned a flower shop just inside the city, and she was constantly watched by Valiant’s men. If Arthur was as trustworthy as his heart said…

    Merlin stumbled forward, suddenly grateful for his inherent clumsiness. His lips brushed the shell of Arthur’s ear as he whispered his mother’s name desperately. “Help her,” he pleaded, before the collar dug into his skin and Delvin dragged him back, away from Arthur. He willed the man to trust him, even if it was only this one time, because he was trusting Arthur with his mother’s safety.

    Even if he didn’t know it yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur starts digging.
> 
> Morgana makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is entirely from Arthur's POV, because apparently he likes to talk to people and I don't know when to tell him to shush.

    Needless to say, Arthur organised to have any and all information on Hunith Ambrosius delivered to his desk. It didn’t matter that it took a week for him to decide – the fact remained that he’d done it. When he arrived at his office that Monday, a neat stack of papers had been left on his desk. He resolved to thank Gwen for her speed and took a seat, opening the first file.

    Hunith Ambrosius owned a small flower shop within the city district. She lived in a country house in the small town of Ealdor. The records indicated that her husband, Balinor, had run off, leaving Hunith alone with a son. There were mentions of a Gaius and a William, however Arthur was uncertain how the two fit into the puzzle. Gaius sounded like an older man's name, so perhaps Hunith's father or uncle? William - he was referred to as 'Will' in most instances. A younger man, then. There were no mentions of Hunith's son's name, but Arthur thought he could guess.

    “Gwen!” he called, summoning his secretary. She slipped through the door, her smile warm, and placed a cup of coffee on his desk.

    “What can I do for you, Arthur?” she asked.

    Arthur hesitated. Was it really necessary for him to go poking around in Merlin’s background any more than he already had? It was obvious that Hunith was his mother, and that Valiant was somehow threatening her – although he hadn’t found any evidence of that. No letters, unusual activity. Nothing stood out in the reports.

    “I need information on Gaius and William, mentioned in these files,” he finally said, handing Gwen the appropriate bits of paper. “As soon as possible.”

    She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Important?”

    “Very,” he replied with feeling, and then paused. Where the bloody hell had that come from?

    Gwen nodded, a sparkle in her eye that Arthur felt a little wary of. Ever since she’d found her perfect match a couple of months ago, Gwen had been very enthusiastic about helping Arthur find his. Not that he wanted her help. He appreciated the gesture, but he was simply too busy to enter a relationship.

    Also, Gwen may have missed the fact that he was gay and didn’t like blondes.

    “I’ll find what I can,” she replied, her curly hair bouncing as she left. As the door closed, Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was all turning out more complicated than Arthur had expected. He hadn’t heard from Valiant since, and he was almost worried. Merlin hadn’t looked injured – apart from how skinny he was, he seemed in perfect health. He looked _beautiful_.

    And that was exactly where he didn’t want his mind to go. He didn’t want to think about wide, intense blue eyes. He didn’t want to think about pale skin or ridiculous ears. He didn’t want his cock stirring at the thought of _Merlin_.

    What was wrong with him? He’d seen the man for less than a half hour, but his thoughts and his traitorous body didn’t seem to care. He knew _about_ Merlin, but he didn’t _know_ him. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose harder, promising himself he could ignore these ridiculous feelings.

 

 

 

    He distracted himself with work. There were reports to write up, underlings to yell at and a father to report to. Arthur was particularly nasty to a few of his subordinates, but he told himself it was because he hadn’t slept very well the night before and had _absolutely nothing_ to do with Merlin. Or his sexual frustrations.

    His productiveness was interrupted when Gwen poked her head into his office to tell him that Morgana was on her way. Arthur stopped what he was doing to peer up at her with narrowed eyes.

    “Did I have an appointment that I forgot about?” he asked. He was almost certain he didn't, meaning Morgana had just decided to show up.

    Again.

    Gwen shook her head, confirming his suspicion. “She just called. Apparently she wants to talk. About this Saturday.”

    Arthur stopped the little snarl of frustration that threatened to emerge with effort. “She’s going to bail, isn’t she? She’s going to leave me to have dinner with father alone.”

    Gwen offered him a tentative smile. “She didn’t say anything about that.”

    She didn't need to, apparently. “When will she arrive?”

    Gwen winced. “She said she’d just pulled up.”

    “Of course she has. Thank you Gwen. Send her in when she comes up.” Arthur returned his attention to his reports, silently cursing Morgana and her spontaneous visits.

    She swept through the door not five minutes later. Arthur didn’t acknowledge her, focusing on the work in front of him. After a minute of silence, Morgana let out a sigh.

    “Hello Arthur,” she said, and Arthur swore he could hear a smirk in her voice.

    “Morgana,” he replied tightly, finally looking up at her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” The sarcasm in his voice was biting.

    Morgana was smirking. “Don’t be like that, Arthur. Something has come up, and I won’t be able to make it on Saturday.”

    “We had a deal, Morgana,” he replied through gritted teeth. “We agreed that we would never skip Saturday dinner, and that we would never leave one of us alone.” _With him_  wasn't added, because it didn’t need to be. Uther Pendragon was a terrifying man. Arthur and Morgana had both been at the receiving end of his temper too many times to count.

    Her smirk dropped, and she looked at him almost earnestly. Almost, because Morgana had learned that emotions must never make it to the surface. Just like he had. “I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t important. There’s someone I have to meet.”

    “Someone you _have_ to meet?” he repeated doubtfully. “Morgana, according to you there are two types of people: people you _want_ to meet and people you _never want_ to meet.”

    Morgana smiled. “Just this once,” she said softly, and Arthur could see how much it meant to her. “I promise you can have a Saturday off in return. I’ll make a good excuse for you.”

    Arthur stared, but he’d already resigned himself to having dinner alone with his father. There are very few instances in their history where Morgana has _pleaded_ with him as opposed to bullying and tricking him into agreeing with her. She’d always been blunt and unaffected, pretending to be above him. Arthur had hated it.

    Now he could see it for what it was. Morgana was a woman surrounded by men. He supposed a lesser woman would have caved under that pressure, but Morgana refused to break. She had made _Uther_ treat her as he did Arthur. She did what she was asked, but made sure that she got what she wanted in return. Morgana was manipulative because she felt she had to be. She was blunt because she hated liars. She was argumentative because anger was something she could deal with.

    “Just tell me one thing,” Arthur sighed. He saw the flash of triumph in Morgana’s eyes and resisted the urge to groan. “Who is this person you _have_ to meet?”

    Morgana actually hesitated. Her mouth opened, but for once she didn’t immediately respond. Her chin rose defensively, as though Arthur had asked her an offensive question, and her eyes glittered almost angrily. She held herself like that for so long that Arthur thought she was actually going to bite his head off. But then she abruptly deflated and sent Arthur a small, trusting smile.

    “Emrys,” she murmured. "I have to meet Emrys."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana unwittingly assists Merlin's escape.
> 
> Merlin is a bit rough, but can we blame him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An all Merlin chapter because I did an all Arthur chapter before. I'll do my best to stick to the half and half from now on though :)
> 
> Thank you to the people who've commented, and everyone who has given me kudos. Sorry if I haven't thanked you personally.

    Merlin spent a very boring week in his cage. His magic hissed and spat, very much like a surly child, but the collar showed no signs of weakening. Valiant had taken back his jeans, leaving him virtually naked. Merlin curled under his blanket and did nothing but sleep, becoming increasingly bored as the days wore on and _nothing_ happened.

    It was a Saturday when he was again pulled from his cage. They left him a calendar to watch the days pass, assholes that they were. It wasn't something most people would consider _torture_ , Merlin supposed, but given how long he'd been stuck in this cage, he thought he was well within his right to consider it a torture. They came in the evening and yanked him out by the collar, the metal digging into the back of his neck. He was given another bath, which was as horrible as the first had been, and for a moment Merlin entertained the hope that Arthur had come back.

    The person standing before him at present was definitely not Arthur. The woman was tall and striking, with long dark hair and stunning green eyes. Her skin was pale, her lips red, and Merlin was sure that, had he been the slightest bit not gay, he would have been on his knees worshipping her.

    As it was, he stared at her and wondered who she was. And why she was here. Because his last visitor had been invited, but judging by the slightly terrified look Valiant had on his face, he guessed the woman had just shown up.

    “Valiant,” she purred, walking forward. Only, calling it _walking_ was wrong. She drifted, stalked, _swept_ forward, all dangerous elegance. “How good to see you.” Her tone was mocking. Merlin felt a grudging admiration for the woman, terrifying as she seemed.

    “Morgana,” Valiant returned, looking as though he was doing his best not to shake in his boots. “I wasn’t expecting you. I had the pleasure of entertaining Arthur last week.”

    Merlin perked up. So this Morgana knew Arthur, did she? She wasn’t a complete unknown then. Maybe she would be as unexpectedly kind as he had been.

    “I wasn’t aware Arthur was entertained.” She was blatantly laughing at him, only Merlin didn’t understand the joke. But Valiant must have, because his face turned red and there was an angry tick in his jaw. “I heard you’d acquired a _pet_.”

    Merlin bristled. He _hated_ being called a pet, because it made him sound like little more than an animal. The derisive tone Morgana had used didn’t help, because it was obvious that derision was aimed at _him_ and not at the thought of considering a person a pet. The grudging admiration and interest vanished without lingering, leaving him to stare at the woman without any expression.

    “I have, he’s a welcome addition to my house.” Merlin was tugged forward into the light, and he made a point of glaring at Morgana the entire time. Silently, he reminded her that he was a _person_ , not an animal. She responded with a raised eyebrow but didn’t comment.

    “He has spirit, certainly.” Oh, the way she said it left no doubt in Merlin’s mind what she was referring to. He bared his teeth, not quite able to quell the low rumble that emanated from his chest. Morgana’s eyebrow rose even further. Three things happened instantaneously that put a stop to the rumble.

    Delvin pulled sharply on the chain, causing Merlin to almost choke as the metal pressed sharply against his windpipe. He stumbled back a few steps, caught off balance.

    The second thing to occur was the brush of foreign magic against his skin - a breath, a whisper over his body. His own magic roiled where it lay trapped, hostile and angry, but there was no outlet for it. It couldn’t protect him - should the owner of the magic decide to attack, he was entirely at their mercy.

    And then the collar _responded_ to the other magic. It started to drain him of his magic, greedily sucking up the magic it had trapped. It grew warmer, slowly burning the skin on his throat. The pain grew unbearable.

    Merlin screamed.

    Chaos ensued.

    “What did you do?” Valiant snarled at Morgana. Her eyes were wide, shocked. In any other situation, Merlin would have assumed she was innocent, but there was gold in her eyes that hadn't been there before. “Disable it!” he snapped at Delvin, not waiting for a response from her. Delvin unlocked the collar, and the moment the hated metal was off his skin, Merlin’s magic exploded.

    It shoved everyone and everything away from him, sending Delvin and Valiant and even Morgana flying. Without any conscious effort on Merlin’s part, it then turned its attention to the collar. Merlin watched with hooded eyes as the collar sparked and hissed, intricate designs melting under the intensity of his magic. Soon there was nothing left but a melted puddle of metal.

    Merlin dragged himself to his feet, his magic curling through the air as almost invisible gold strands. Valiant was shouting, gesturing wildly, panicking. Delvin was out cold, his arm twisted beneath him. Morgana was pale, her eyes wide and still gently glimmering with gold.

    “Emrys,” she whispered, almost reverently. Merlin winced, his lip curling, and stepped away from her. “No wait, please.”

    “Someone shoot him!” Valiant roared, and Merlin snapped his attention back to the man, to his keeper, his jailer. Valiant got to his feet, almost trembling but holding his ground. “What about mother dear, pet?” he taunted, reaching for the gun that was handed to him. His hands weren’t shaking.

    Merlin gave him a cold smile. “Call me pet again,” he invited, stepping closer. “I dare you.”

    Valiant raised the gun and fired once. A warning shot, Merlin thought. The bullet whizzed past his ear, and he let it go by. “We’re going to kill you mother if you take another step,” he warned.

    Merlin shrugged. “You can try. I notice you didn’t call me pet. Scared, Valiant?” Merlin offered him another frigid smile. “You should be.”

    Valiant fired again, and Merlin stopped the bullet before it came anywhere near him, batting it aside with his magic. The colour drained from Valiant’s face, and he fired again. The same thing happened. The control Merlin had over his magic was shaky, but as soon as he calmed himself he would be able to reaffirm his authority.

    Putting it like that, Merlin supposed people would come to the conclusion that his magic was sentient. And it was, to a degree. His magic was a part of him. He was his magic, and his magic was him. His emotions had a great deal of influence on how his magic behaved. For example, right now it was being rather rough because Merlin was really quite angry.

    Merlin didn’t try and stop his magic from twisting the gun from Valiant’s hand. He didn’t flinch when Valiant refused to let go, and his wrist and index finger snapped. He ignored the harsh groan of pain – he was impressed Valiant hadn’t screamed, if he was being honest – and instead watched as Valiant was pinned against the wall.

    “I’m not scared of you, pet,” Valiant hissed, his dark eyes narrowing murderously. “You wouldn’t kill a fly. You’re weak.”

    Merlin snorted. “Weak, am I?” he asked softly, a menacing edge to his voice. He’d never heard himself sound quite so nasty, and he wasn't sure if he would like himself when he calmed down. His magic twisted Valiant’s broken wrist, and Merlin watched his jailer’s face wash free of colour. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Valiant, but locking someone in a cage tends to alter how people act. Threatening loved ones makes people… Well, it makes them desperate, I suppose.” He pushed Valiant’s wrist with his hand. “Which is why I asked Arthur Pendragon to help my mother.”

    Valiant was breathing in short gasps, pain etched across every plane of his face. “You… did… _What_?” he demanded breathlessly, fury written in the sharp angle of his brow and the rigid position of his shoulders.

    Merlin nodded. “I asked for his help, Valiant. I’ve seen inside your heart, you know. I know how much that makes you angry. I went to _Arthur_ for help, even though I was _yours_.” He snorted again. “That’s how you think, Valiant. You don’t simply want things – you have to possess them, completely and wholly. And you were _never_ going to be able to do that with me.”

    “You _fucking_ whore,” Valiant hissed. “I should have made you submit –” The rest of his sentence was cut off by a shout that was almost a scream as Merlin twisted his broken wrist.

    “Let me make this _very_ clear,” Merlin breathed, staring Valiant straight in the eye. “I am going to leave. And when I do, you will never come near me again. Because if you do, Valiant, if you do – I will turn you into your worst nightmare. A babbling, terrified coward who pisses himself at the mention of Arthur Pendragon.” Merlin smiled at Valiant’s shocked expression. “I’ve seen into your heart,” he reminded him. “I _know_ how to make you suffer.”

    He turned away abruptly, his magic releasing Valiant and knocking him out at the same time. Morgana was on her feet, her hands held defensively in front of her. There was the barest hint of gold in her green eyes. She knew who he was. She knew he was stronger than she could ever hope to be.

    Merlin found himself, again, admiring her. She was brave, in a very stupid kind of way. Merlin could admire that. He strode over and stopped a short distance from her. They eyed each other silently for a long minute. Neither knew what the other was thinking, and both were tensed in anticipation of a fight.

    “Right,” Merlin said finally, flashing her a smile as his whole body loosened. “Would you mind taking me to Arthur? I need to make sure he _actually_ helped my mum.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion time!
> 
> Morgana has good news (READ: shit is about to hit the fan)
> 
> I hate summaries why do I even bother?

    The following Monday afternoon, Arthur was satisfied he had done the right thing. Hunith had been relocated after Arthur’s men had found evidence that she was being watched. He knew they were Valiant’s men, even without the evidence. She was working part time downstairs, watched over by Gwen and Lance.

    It almost scared him how much he seemed to trust Merlin, especially after only meeting him once. Throughout the entire debacle, Arthur hadn’t been able to shake the sense of apprehension that hung around him like a faithful fog. Valiant’s men had been removed and relocated, each receiving a large amount of money to stay where they had been put and to not cause a fuss. Arthur was satisfied with the action taken, but the apprehension had failed to fade.

    He’d been so busy this morning that he almost hadn’t noticed Morgana hadn’t called. When he had, he’d felt a brief flash of brotherly concern. But then thoughts of Merlin had popped up as though summoned, and Arthur forgotten to wonder after his sister. He forgot about the ‘Emrys’ his sister had been so keen to meet, and instead focused on distracting himself from Merlin by concentrating on paperwork.

    Life had never seemed so hard.

    Gwen was under strict orders not to let anyone disturb him – he had to catch up on all the paperwork he’d missed dealing with Hunith. So when there came a knock on the door, Arthur sighed.

    “What do you want Morgana?” he demanded without looking up. The door creaked open, and two pairs of footsteps, one significantly quieter than the other, entered. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

    “Hello Arthur,” Merlin said pleasantly, and Arthur almost fell off his chair. He looked up with wide eyes, catching sight of the man who had invaded his thoughts standing casually behind Morgana. He looked – Arthur stopped himself before he started acting like a girl.

    “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Arthur replied. His eyes flickered to Morgana, but she was resolutely looking away. He narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Morgana would tell him, sooner or later. They didn’t keep secrets from each other for long.

    “I just came to see if my mum’s alright,” Merlin said, face unguarded and earnest. He was wearing jeans and a loose shirt. His feet were bare. Arthur blinked and stared at Merlin’s feet, silently baffled.

    “Where are your shoes?” he blurted out, and Merlin let out a surprised laugh.

    “Morgana said you’d ask that,” he said, smiling in a way that lit up his entire face and Arthur _never wanted him to stop smiling_. He almost didn’t notice that he’d avoided the question. Almost. He let it slide, though.

    “Did she?” Arthur choked out, glancing at her. And promptly regretted it, because the harpy had a knowing smirk on her face that made his stomach drop. Oh dear God she knew. She bloody _knew_ and Arthur was not panicking at all. No, he was not. He looked back at Merlin.

    “My mum?” he prompted.

    Arthur took a breath. “She has been successfully relocated.” He paused. “She’s actually downstairs at the moment, if you wanted to see her.” He pushed a button to get Gwen on the phone and gave her a very brief rundown before hanging up and returning his attention to Merlin.

    The smile he received almost made his heart stop in his chest. It was difficult to reconcile this _beaming_ version of Merlin with the version he had first been introduced to. This Merlin looked far from the furious and subtly terrified young man he had encountered at Valiant’s. Speaking of Valiant…

    He locked eyes with Morgana the moment Merlin stepped from the room. Gwen would help him find Hunith. “What happened?” he demanded.

    “It was rather exciting. You would have liked to be there. I doubt Valiant will be troubling any of us anytime soon.” Morgana looked positively gleeful, and Arthur decided he didn’t _really_ need to know the details.

    “I thought you were meeting this… Emrys fellow?” he asked hesitantly.

    Morgana was smiling. “That _was_ Emrys, Arthur,” she said, her voice rising in excitement. “He didn’t exactly like me, to begin with, but I think we can be friends.”

    Arthur stared. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Morgana?” he asked suspiciously. He’d never seen her so… Carefree. She almost seemed like a child. Like the child she had never actually been. “And _that_ was Merlin.”

    Morgana waved a hand. “Come now, Arthur, surely you realise the benefit of having two names. If it helps, you can think of Merlin as _who_ he is, and Emrys as _what_ he is.”

    Arthur blinked at her. “And what is he?” he asked, feeling more than a little lost.

    She grinned at him. “Only the most powerful sorcerer in the world.”

    “The most powerful sorcerer in the world?” Arthur repeated. “Him?” Surely he had heard wrong.

    Morgana rolled her eyes. “That collar was _supposed_ to lock away _all_ of his magic,” she said. “And yet he could still touch someone and see into their heart.” She shook her head. “He’s powerful, Arthur. Don’t let his appearance fool you. If you had of seen what he did to Valiant…”

    “Wait.” Arthur held up a hand. “You mean to tell me that _Merlin_ took care of _Valiant_? Morgana, have you seen the two of them standing side by side?”

    “Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer in the world,” Morgana reminded him. “He has so much power at his fingertips. Making a man like Valiant suffer was nothing.”

    Arthur swallowed nervously. “Is Valiant dead?” Morgana shook her head, and Arthur pretended not to see the faint disappointment in her green eyes. Neither of them liked Valiant, but Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted the man dead. “Is Merlin dangerous?”

    Morgana looked at him in surprise. “Of course he is,” she said. “But I doubt he’ll hurt us. You saved his mother, I helped him escape.”

    Arthur sighed. “Why did you need to meet him, Morgana? Have you been dreaming again?”

    Morgana bit her lip. “I can’t See much,” she admitted. “But we need him. I don’t like to think of him as a weapon, Arthur. But we need him for what’s coming.”

    He took a deep breath. Morgana’s gift had been helpful over the years. After an accident that Morgana had warned him about, Arthur had taken it more seriously than he had when they were children. She’d never had a problem with her gift before. It made him more nervous than he cared to admit.

    “What is coming, Morgana?”

    She looked at him a little blankly. “Darkness,” she replied flatly, and Arthur felt a cold touch of fear run down his spine.


	6. Chapter 6

    “Merlin!” Hunith cried, wrapping her arms around him. And then she pulled back and smacked his arm, her expression furious. “You never called!” she accused. “You never sent any letters!”

    Merlin winced. “Sorry mum,” he murmured, pulling her back for another hug. “Things got pretty hectic.” He felt the anger recede from her body, her arms circling him again. He’d missed her.

    “How was Paris?” she asked softly. “You and Will were so excited to go, and then neither of you wrote!” She huffed out a sigh, pulling out of the hug. Merlin quickly schooled his features, aware they'd twisted into something decidedly not nice. “Is he here with you?”

    “No,” Merlin said shortly, giving his mother a believable smile. “He got himself a girlfriend, though.” He _really_ didn’t want to talk about Will. Not now, not ever again. “How long have you worked here? What happened to the flower place?” Because of course, a son just returning from Paris wouldn’t know anything about the relocation. Merlin suddenly panicked – how was he supposed to explain why he was here?

    Gwen gave him a bright smile. “Arthur’s sister met Merlin in Paris,” she supplied when Hunith turned a questioning gaze to her. “And Arthur’s been needing a new PA for _months_ , so Morgana brought him here to see if it would work out.”

    Hunith beamed. “Oh how wonderful! So did you get the job?”

    “Er… Yes?” Merlin stammered, peeking at Gwen. She winked, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, I did." He paused for a moment, mind scrambling to get back on teh track he'd been on. "You didn’t answer my question.”

    Hunith waved his question away. “Hardly important. I have to get back to work – we’ll have to have dinner before the week ends.” There was a subtle threat hidden in his mother’s words, so Merlin nodded hastily. She smiled at him, gave him another hug and then disappeared around the corner. 

That was definitely not the worst reunion they could have had. Merlin’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you,” he said brightly. “That was really quick thinking.”

    Gwen’s lips twitched. “It wasn’t quick thinking,” she told him, and for a moment Merlin stared at her wordlessly.

    “No,” he finally murmured. “You made that up to help me out.”

    “Nope,” Gwen replied cheerfully. “I’m actually Morgana’s PA – Arthur was just borrowing me.”

    Merlin gaped. “You mean I have to be Arthur’s PA?” he asked weakly. “I can’t do that. I’d be horrible. He should keep borrowing you. Please.”

    Gwen laughed. “You can’t be that bad.”

 

 

    “Merlin!” Arthur sounded mad. Then again, since Merlin had started working for him, he'd sounded mad all the time. Apart from the times he sounded 'furious' or 'annoyed. During the few days he'd been working for Arthur, Merlin's name had somehow become something of a curse.

    Merlin scurried to hide in an empty room, his magic cloaking him in invisibility. He held his breath as Arthur stormed passed, angrily demanding to know where his PA was hiding. Gwen trailed behind him, looking as though she was torn between laughing and crying. Merlin glared at the back of her head.

    “’You can’t be that bad’,” he muttered to himself, mimicking Gwen’s disbelieving tone. “Oh, actually I can, Gwen. I can even be _worse_.” In addition to whatever he’d messed up today, over the week he’d managed to wipe the computer’s memory, introduced several bad viruses to the system, and failed to organise three important meetings. He’d also misplaced his key card (more than once), gotten lost at least twice a day and spilled coffee all over Arthur’s expensive suit. Eight times. And counting.

    To make matters even worse, tonight he had dinner with his mother. He was out of practice with lying to her, and he knew she’d ask about Paris. Morgana had been kind enough to teach him about Paris – she frequently visited when she had time – but there was only so much he could remember. And she’d ask about _Will_ , and Merlin didn’t want to make up any more than he had to. Besides, as far as he was concerned, he and Will were through.

    Even now, _months_ after his capture, Merlin still felt the sting of Will’s betrayal. They had been close as kids, living next door to one another and the only boys their age in the area. Their friendship had progressed to the point where Merlin had felt comfortable about revealing his magic to Will. That had apparently been the tipping point for their relationship, because soon after the two had become lovers.

    It had been good, at first. Merlin hardly noticed the little things, like how Will always seemed tense, angry, when he said he was going out with friends. How Will was always cold and bordered on cruel the nights he came home late. Looking back, they should have been warning signs.

    But people did say hindsight was twenty-twenty for a reason. Perhaps not for this particular reason, but it was as good as any.

    It only got worse. Will isolated him, made him feel like the world had turned its back on him. Threatened him with his secret. Mocked him when he did something stupid. Introduced him to new ‘friends’ who were sometimes even crueller than Will.

    And then finally, the biggest betrayal that shattered Merlin’s hopeful little fantasy.

    Needless to say, Merlin had never said a word to his mother. He suspected she knew _something_ , because Hunith wasn’t stupid. She liked Will, treated him like a son, but there had been an air of… Suspicion about her in the weeks preceding Merlin’s imprisonment.

    A cold shudder distracted him from his thoughts, and he was hardly surprised when the lights went out.

    “Oh, of course,” he muttered to himself, cancelling the invisibility spell and stepping from the room. The hall was dark, and nervous voices echoed along the walls. “Leoht,” he whispered, feeling abruptly lighter when the sphere of light appeared in front of him. “Shall we find Arthur?” he asked it, letting his magic brush around the sphere. With a shiver, the sphere darted away, leaving Merlin gaping after it.

    With a muttered curse, he broke into a run, chasing the sphere. He passed employees pressed against the glass, watching him as he raced past. In any other situation, he would have stopped to give them a wave, but Merlin was busy. The _feeling_ was getting worse, and he had a very good idea of who he’d find at the end of the chase.

    He skidded around a corner to find Morgana, Gwen, Arthur and Hunith all surrounded by men in black. Merlin’s sphere was hovering right in Arthur’s face, giving him a clear view of Arthur’s faintly annoyed expression. Leon was nowhere to be seen, meaning Arthur's bodyguard was busy. Or dead, but that wasn't a pleasant thought. So busy.

    “Late to the party, am I?” Merlin asked flippantly. The men, who had been staring in surprise at the ball of light, spun to face him. Several weapons were aimed at his chest, so Merlin smiled and waved. “Hello.”

    “Merlin,” Arthur said, sounding _very_ annoyed and possibly slightly afraid. “You are useless.”

     _Well_ , Merlin thought,  _aren't you pleasant?_

    Merlin scoffed, twitching his wrist. The weapons flew from the hands of the assailants. “Tell me that again when I save your neck, young master Pendragon,” Merlin called mockingly, grinning cheekily at the now weapon-less men. “I’d love to trade friendly banter, but if you want to keep yourselves looking perfect, I’d run,” he advised in a conspiratorially tone.

    “Always so spirited,” a soft voice said from behind him. Merlin froze, the barrel of a gun pressed between his shoulder blades. “That’s what I liked about you, _Merlin_.” Merlin felt himself swallow, felt his magic twist and writhe angrily.

    “William,” he spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, long time no write!
> 
> If anyone is curious as to why I decided to portray Will as a decidedly horrible person, let me know in the comments and I'll be happy to explain my reasons.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy the newest installment :D


	7. Chapter 7

    Arthur had never heard so much loathing in one person’s voice. And for that amount of hatred to come from Merlin – the sunny, clumsy, always-smiling sorcerer his sister had brought back to the office – was unsettling.

    Hunith gasped at his side, but Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away from Merlin. The young man had transformed completely. His eyes, which had been sparkling with mirth and a certain mischief that sent shivers down Arthur’s spine, were flat and dark like bottomless pits. His mouth was turned down in a grimace, his hands clenched into tight fists. His shoulder were tight, and Arthur thought he saw the man tremble.

    The man behind Merlin – William, presumably the one mentioned in the files – laughed. “Oh, I have certainly missed you, Merlin.”

    The way he said Merlin’s name had Arthur seeing red.

    “The feeling is not returned,” Merlin said, his jaw tight. “I’d let go of that gun, Will.”

    “Or what?” the man mocked, moving closer to Merlin. Arthur swallowed the sudden rush of jealousy that burned through his chest. “You’ll make me?”

    “I’m certainly considering,” Merlin bit back, and suddenly beautiful golden threads appeared in the air around him. Arthur stared, enthralled. They moved gracefully, yet there was no denying the subtle terror that ran down his spine. As beautiful as the threads were, he would have had to be blind to the deadly edges that caught what little light there still was.

    “If only you could,” William whispered, not seeming concerned with the threads. “If only you weren’t such a failure. If only you could control yourself.” He laughed. “Poor Merlin, gifted but useless.”

    The threads twisted, drifting closer to William. “I’m far from useless,” Merlin hissed. “Last warning, William.”

    William’s hand abruptly closed around Merlin’s throat. “Did you like the collar?” he breathed, tightening his grip. “Did it remind you of all the fun we had?”

    Something desperate and dejected crossed Merlin’s face before he looked towards Hunith. He offered her a tentative smile. “I’m… Well, I’m sorry. You should look away.”

    Morgana grabbed Hunith and turned her away, hugging the older woman against her chest. Arthur could hardly hear her sobbing. He was too busy watching Merlin.

    Merlin, who twisted around, his pale hands grasping William’s wrist and _snapping_ the bones with barely any effort. The satisfied look on William’s face disappeared as he howled in pain, stumbling back from Merlin. The dark-haired man followed, the golden threads snapping towards him furiously. The other men had apparently decided to attack Arthur and the others while Merlin was busy.

    Arthur sprang into action, taking out two of their attackers before Morgana stepped forward, her eyes flashing gold. Another man went flying, slamming into the wall. At some point, Leon had managed to make it to his side, and Arthur was never more thankful for the reassuring heat of his friend’s back against his. The lights above them flickered, and Arthur caught sight of Merlin pinning William to the wall, an expression of anguish on his face.

    Merlin’s voice was almost inaudible. “There are so many things I want to say to you, Will.” His fingers touched the other man’s face gently. “So many things I want to make sure you understand.” He pulled his hand away with a hiss. “Shall I tell you what lies within your heart, Will?”

    “Go… to _hell_!” William snarled, throwing a desperate punch. Merlin didn’t flinch when the blow landed against his ribs, but the other man let out a pain-filled yell. He pulled his arm back, and Arthur could see that the skin was covered in hundreds of cuts and gashes.

    “Don’t worry, darling, mommy will be home soon,” Merlin said, his voice twisting and lilting. “Daddy loves you, I promise. I’ll go and get him. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Merlin smirked. “But she never came back, did she? Neither of them did. You were abandoned. Worthless. Useless. Unloved. I bet it riled you when we met, didn’t it? You wanted everything I had, so you tried to steal it. How well did that work for you?” he taunted.

    “Shut up,” William snarled, but Arthur could see the pain deep in his eyes. “You don’t know anything!”

    Merlin laughed, a sinister sound that raised the hair on Arthur’s neck. “I don’t know anything? One touch was all it took for me to know _everything_. I know more about you than I ever wanted to know, but at least now I can hurt you like you hurt me. Honestly, you wanted to steal my _mother_? How did you think that would work?”

    “Stop it!” the other man shouted, a tinge of desperation in his voice.

    “This is what you’ve made me,” Merlin hissed, fury snapping cold and dark in his eyes. “When you _left me in a cage_ , this is what you made me resort to. I need you to understand that this,” he gestured to himself, “is entirely _your fault_.”

    “Hunith must be so proud,” William sneered. “Her worthless son finally grew a backbone. Are you going to kill me, Merlin? In front of your mother?”

    “No,” Merlin replied, but the smirk on his face was far from reassuring. “Never in front of my mother. But I have my magic, Will, remember? Remember that time with the apples?” That obviously meant something William, because his face went white. “I know you left me in a cage with that collar, but does this,” he threw his arms out wide, “look like a cage to you?”

    William was pale, his skin bleached of colour. He was limp against the wall, limbs trembling. He looked like he’d had enough, but Merlin obviously didn’t think so because he leaned in close to William’s ear, hands braced on either side of the wall. His lips moved, but Arthur couldn’t hear him anymore. When Merlin pulled back, William looked destroyed.

    “Merlin,” Arthur said, not realising until he’d spoken that the hall had grown eerily silent. “You can let him go now. He’s not going to be able to do anything more.” Merlin turned, looking shocked. As Arthur watched, colour began to bleed from his cheeks. He looked from William to his mother, still wrapped securely in Morgana’s arms.

    “I – I didn’t mean to…” Merlin swallowed and very suddenly collapsed. His hands were shaking, and the golden threads of his magic disappeared.

    “Merlin, you’re okay now,” Arthur soothed. “Your mother is safe. I won’t let anything happen to either of you, I promise.” From the corner of his eye, Arthur caught Hunith looking up at Morgana questioningly and remembered she knew nothing. He cursed himself silently as he took a cautious step forward.

    “I didn’t want to do that,” Merlin whispered, looking at Arthur pleadingly. He flinched when Arthur offered him his hand. After a moment, Merlin reached for it with trembling fingers.

    The moment their skin touched, the tension in Merlin’s frame disappeared. He breathed out in a sigh, pulling Arthur down to him. Arthur awkwardly took a seat on the floor, and promptly bit his tongue when the raven haired man climbed into his lap. One of Merlin’s hands slid under his shirt and pressed itself over his heart.

    Arthur wasn’t sure how long they sat there before Morgana came over and nudged him with her foot. “Are you going to sit there all day?” she asked, an amused lilt to her voice. Arthur glanced around and saw Hunith standing off to the side with Gwen, an odd look on her face. William was nowhere to be seen.

    “Merlin,” Arthur said gently, frowning when he received no answer. “Merlin?” he asked a little louder. Merlin mumbled something intelligible and nuzzled closer. Morgana snickered.

    “Isn’t that sweet?” she cooed, and Arthur managed to shift in order to get a look at Merlin’s face. He groaned.

    Merlin had fallen asleep on him.


	8. Chapter 8

    Merlin dreamed of bright colours and emotions that folded him in the most comforting embrace he’d ever known - better, even, than his mum's hugs. He dreamed of proud purple arms and clear blue eyes, of hair the colour of sunlight and of love the colour of a sunset.

    It was peaceful, surrounded by the colours. But Merlin wasn’t a fool. He knew there was no such thing as perfection, even in a dream. And suddenly he was in a bubble that was straining to keep itself intact. Merlin could hear voices, one louder than all the others, repeating the same phrase that he couldn’t quite hear. The voices crowded closer, pressing, pushing. Merlin felt his heart begin to race as the bubble shivered, faint fractures spider webbing across its surface.

    Merlin woke with a trembling hand gripping tightly to what he assumed had been a crisp white shirt. There was a hand on his shoulder, and when he regained himself, he realised his other hand was pressed over a strong, beating heart.

    “You’re awake,” Arthur said, removing his hand from Merlin’s shoulder. “I thought we’d be stuck here all night.”

    Merlin moved, almost falling backwards in his haste to get back. He found himself with his back against the wall, peering at Arthur with eyes he suspected were gold, not blue. At Arthur’s startled expression, Merlin unlocked his jaw.

    “Sorry,” he panted. “Just… A moment, if you don’t mind.”

    “Take all the time you need,” Arthur replied gently, standing slowly. He winced and stretched his legs, and Merlin wondered how long he’d been asleep. “Morgana, Gwen and Hunith are downstairs in the lunchroom. I haven’t told Hunith anything. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted her to know.”

    Merlin took a deep breath. “She’s probably put most of it together,” he whispered, slowly pulling himself away from the wall. “She’s very smart, my mum.”

    Arthur nodded in agreement. “She’s been doing wonders downstairs.”

    There was a brief moment of silence during which Merlin made himself look back at what he’d done. He flinched when he remembered William, remembered the awful things that had come from his mouth. Remembered the taste of jagged wounds being torn open. Remembered the feel of a heart tearing itself apart because of  _his_ words. A bitter taste filled his mouth, and he suddenly felt he had to explain himself.

    “I –” Merlin began, but he cut himself off before he got any further. Arthur waited in silence, expectant. “That wasn’t me,” Merlin finally said, hands clenching and unclenching. Little sparks of gold fizzed around his hands. “In there. With William.” The name tasted like sour poison and sounded like a curse. “That wasn’t me,” Merlin repeated, for a moment unsure who he was trying to convince.

    “I won’t pretend I understand what you’ve been through,” Arthur said. “But I can tell you one thing.”

    “And what’s that?” Merlin almost snarled. “That I’m a monster? That I terrify you?” Because Arthur wouldn't be the first, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. But for some reason the thought of Arthur hating him made his chest ache.

    “I can tell that you’re a… Well, not a terrible person,” Arthur said, ignoring him, “because you regret it.”

    Merlin tilted his head. “You’re not scared of me?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the hopeful note in his question.

    Arthur laughed. “Trust me, Merlin, I am terrified. But not of you.”

    “Then of what?”

    Arthur pointed to the golden sparks that were still dancing around Merlin's hands like hyperactive children. “That power you have. Without it, what’s to fear?”

    Merlin coughed out a surprised chuckle. “You would fear for your suits more,” he replied seriously.

    “Merlin, I already fear for them enough. Do you know how many times I’ve taken my suit to the dry cleaners?”

    “Without my magic, it would have been a lot more,” Merlin replied solemnly. “Do you know how many times I’ve stopped your coffee from spilling on you?”

    Arthur shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

    “You’re a prat,” Merlin retorted. After a pause, he added, “And I’m sorry for falling asleep on you. I haven’t used my magic for a long time – it exhausted me.”

    “You should be apologising to my knees,” Arthur said. “I’m not used to kneeling for so long.”

    Merlin felt a blush spread up his neck. “And I’m sorry for, um, my hand… Your shirt…”

    “Worry not. All has been forgiven.” Arthur waved a hand dismissively. “But you still need to explain things to your mother. I’ll get Gwen and Morgana to leave, but you promise me here and now to tell her the truth.”

    “I promise,” Merlin replied automatically. “And thank you.”

    “For?”

    “For being honest.”

    Arthur smiled – it was a slow smile that crawled across his face and looked unnatural for a moment before it settled. Arthur didn’t look like he smiled all that much. “You don’t get very far in business by lying,” he said, moving past Merlin to open the door.

    “After you?” Arthur asked, and Merlin took a deep breath before walking through the doorway. It was time to face the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short and it's been so long! The next chapter will be longer, I promise!


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